Meant to Live
by As.A.Ghost
Summary: Fighting back became hard, breathing became hard, eating, sleeping, faking a smile... Existing became hard. It became impossible for me, so I simply chose to not exist. But something told me to hang in there for another day, because things could change. My life could get better, it could all change because of one choice. This, this was my choice. I chose to live.
1. Chapter 1

**Meant to Live**

I watched the sunlight peep through the leaves, I watched a bird fly away from a branch when I neared it. I watched the sky cloud over, and I felt the rain trickle down my arm as the sky suddenly darkened. I waited, listening as the thunder cracked through the sky, and then lightning ripped through the heavens. And the animals that had been out vanished from the woods. And I looked up, vision blurring as rain droplets landed on my up tilt face. And I smiled; this was as good a place as any. There were no corpses out, nothing around me that could hurt me. Not anymore, I was finally free to do what I wished.

I finally had control of my life.

It was odd, a new feeling that raced through me. But I was free, and everything up until this point didn't matter anymore. I was happy. Everything balanced on this decision, which I had thought over and over. But I had made up my mind; it was time to go. That sliver of hope was finally gone, and I didn't feel it surfacing as I dropped to the ground, taking my knife from my belt.

I half expected it to pop back up into my head, but it didn't. And a part of me wanted it to. I wanted to hold on, just one more day. You can go one more day; it could be different tomorrow. Something could change; things could get better. But as I felt it starting to make its presence known, I shoved it back down. Why should I wait one more day? Why keep going when I've gone this long? Hadn't I gone on by myself long enough? But it countered, saying if I had made it this long I would be throwing it away for nothing. But I didn't want to keep doing what I knew wasn't working; I was playing a game I was ready to quit.

I felt the blade touch my skin, but it didn't feel wrong. I closed my eyes tight, feeling my skin splitting in two. It burned, but the rain had washed the pain away. _There's no going back! What have you done? You can't just give up when you've been fighting this long. You're letting yourself win, Brooke. You're taking the easy way out. Why?_

"Because there's no point!" I screamed, looking to the clouds as thunder crackled.

_There is a point; you're alive for a reason. You can't give up; you can't just throw it all away._

"Why not?" I asked, staring down at my arm. I watched the rain swirl with the ruby red, watched it drip down my arm to the leaves covering the forest floor.

_Don't you see? You've nearly come to the best part._

I scrunched my nose up in confusion, looking around to realize I was alone. I was talking to myself again. Tears welled up it my eyes, and I blinked, sending it splashing to my arm. And I had realized what I had just done. I threw my knife to the ground, and ripped at my shirt; tearing apiece off and tying it around my arm.

"I don't want to die," I said to myself, I wanted to believe it. I had to make myself believe it.

I stood up, pushing off the tree I had sat against. I had never been this lost; I had never come to this point. This was dark; this was what my mind had come to. And it was twisted and ugly... and real.

I picked up my knife, wiping it aimlessly against my pants. Thunder crackled again, but as I listened for it to signal, I realized that was not thunder. That was a gun going off. _Go find them!_ I started to walk toward the noise, weary of the corpses that could be lurking around. It seemed like ages until I maid it up a hill, and through the thick foliage of the trees you could see it.

A prison.

It was so simple yet so complex all in itself. I bet no one would have thought about living in a prison. I walked closer, winding around the corpses as they lunged at me. They were a lot slower than they normally would be. I guess they were finally getting tired. I broke out into a teary smile, waving my arm in the air, keeping my bandaged one to my side. "Hey!" I yelled, trying to get the shooters attention. They had to of spotted me right away, because as I walked on wobbly knees they cleared a path for me.

I started coughing, shaking and bending over. A rush went through me, and I fell to the ground, fisting the grass to try and stay up. I didn't want to fall over, especially if I was in the open like this. I looked at my wrapped arm, and saw the cloth had been bled through, and now the blood had started to run down my arm to the grass below.

I looked up, back to the fences that weren't but maybe five yards away. Two people ran to the other side, pulling down on some sort of lever. That was crafty of them, and smart. When the gates opened, a woman ran to me. She yelled back at the fence, and the man that had come with her ran back toward the prison. I watched her take aim at a few corpses with my vision going in and out of focus, and from where I was she looked like she was running in zigzag.

When she reached me, she tried to help me stand and I fell back to the ground. It felt like a ton of bricks were weighing me down. I stared up at her, not hearing a word she had said. It was all a blur, and her words ran together in inaudible sentences. I stared into her eyes, my own drooping. The last thing I remember is her yelling at me, for what I didn't know. My eyes closed shut, and sleep washed over me.

_Is this what you wanted? Because you got it, there's no going back now. _

**OK! So I hope you guys liked it, and this is just the intro. For the parts that are italicized, that is her conscious. Sorry if that confused people, but R&R if you want to! Until next time lovelies.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Meant to Live**

_**Before the apocalypse…**_

"Summer?" I called, walking around the house, slinging my backpack on the couch. I sighed, no answer. That was pretty typical, she was usually at school while my dad stayed home. That's what I hated about getting home first; dad was always drunk. I stepped cautiously into the living room, turning my head around the corner to see if he was in there. But he wasn't. _That's weird._

I shrugged, going into the kitchen and getting a water bottle out of the fridge; might as well enjoy the peace and quiet before Summer gets home. I sauntered back into the living room, unscrewing the cap and taking a gulp. It was hot as hell outside, and the walk back from school didn't make it any better. I took my phone out of my back pocket, typing in my code absent-mindedly, turning on the TV. I set my water on the coffee table and began flipping through the channels and just decided to keep it on Nickelodeon; I wasn't going to really watch it anyways. I guess I just liked having another sound in the house; it made me feel less alone.

A text from my friend, Paige, tore my eyes away from the screen showing Drake & Josh. I actually loved that show. I scanned her text; she wanted me to come over to spend the night. I sighed, I didn't feel up to it at the moment but I chatted with her regardless. She was my best friend; I'd known her since first grade. And now, here we were in eighth grade, still friends. Still the weird kids; still immature- it actually felt like we downgraded as we grew up.

The one thing I could count on with Paige, is that, she was always there for me. She was always the person with open arms, and she helped me in the best way she knew how. No, her dad wasn't a drunk, but he neglected her; I noticed the first time I spent the night at her house. I always tried to be there for her as well, but I'm not good at comforting people, or being uplifting, or really being around people for that matter. Now that I thought about it, I really didn't like being in crowds. It made me uncomfortable.

"So what are you doing?" she asked and I looked from the phone to the TV that was now blaring, buzzing, some sort of emergency. Drake & Josh cut off and a live broadcast came on. A woman was sitting in front of the camera, but without a bubblegum smile. She looked nervous, and scared.

"We interrupt this program to give you a very important message. We're live here in Atlanta, Georgia. News of the virus has just come in. Scientists are thinking it is some sort of rabies. Forces have been called, and everything seems to be under control for the time being here in Georgia. We'll keep everyone up to date. Brought to you from Fox News, I'm Amanda Miller, back to you Michael."

My eyebrows knitted, almost together in the middle. The front door opened and my little sister's voice boomed through the house. She ran down the foyer and into the living room, jumping on me and squeezing me to where I thought I was going to die.

"Brooke! I missed you!" she said into my shirt, and I pulled her off of me and sat her down next to me. I pressed a finger to my lips, turning back to the TV. It was a guy now, and after he was done talking, the newscast shut off and Drake & Josh flicked back onto the screen. She huffed, propping her head up.

"Nothing, Summer just got back from school. At least we're the only ones here right now." I typed the message, and then sent it on its way to Paige's phone. I tossed my cell to the side of the couch, where it stayed for about ten minutes. I smiled evilly at my little sister, whose eyes were focused on the TV in front of her. I plaid it cool; scooting just a bit closer to her with out her noticing. And then, I lunged at her and grabbed her by the waist. She screamed and all I said to her was "Tickle monster!" She kicked at me, going down to the floor with a struggle. I must say; she was a fighter. Her laughter erupted in the house and I went for her weak spot, her sides.

"Brooke! Brooke, stop I can't breathe!" she yelled and her infectious laugh caused me to start giggling. She thrashed around on the floor and my dark hair fell in front of my eyes. That's when she grabbed a pillow and hit me with it.

"Oh, so it's a pillow fight you want? Then it's a pillow fight you'll get!" I said, standing up and grabbing the nearest cushion and running toward her. She laughed and we slung around the pillows, never really hitting each other hard, for what seemed like hours. Then, the front door slammed and footsteps stomped through the foyer. Summer threw her pillow down on the couch and ran into the kitchen and I plopped back onto the sofa when my dad walked into the room. I grabbed my phone, seeing that Paige had replied to my message. It read, "I hope everything's okay, my parent's are dragging me out to see my grandparents since you're not coming over." I kept my eyes on the screen, and jumped slightly when he stood in front of me. His shadow over powered my frame, and I replied quickly.

"Sorry, dad's home. I gotta go…"

I looked up from my phone, turning it off and holding it in my lap. I swallowed hard, looking up at him. His eyes were clouded over, completely intoxicated.

"Are you drunk?" I said, looking up at him from under my eyelashes. He hadn't replied, and I could here his heavy breathing from over me.

"Go upstairs, and give me your phone."

"Why don't you go upstairs?! You're the one that's drunk all the time. Summer is home, I don't want you around her," I snapped, and I instantly regretted letting the words slip. He stood from over me, and I did everything to stay upright. I put my phone in my pocket, quickly, so he wouldn't take it away incase I needed it.

"Can I help you?" I asked, which probably wasn't the best choice of words in my current situation. He looked even more angry at my smart-ass comment, and he frowned, causing his face to look old and worn down. He grabbed my wrist, pulling me up from the couch in one swift motion, and I pulled away, but he didn't let go.

"I've had about enough of your backtalk," he said loudly, causing me to bow my head. But when I glanced back to the kitchen and saw Summer staring at me, I stood upright.

"Let go of me! Don't fucking touch me, ever. You're not my dad!" I yelled right in his face, and he looked even angrier with me than before.

"I'm your stepfather, and I have authority over you. Who do you think pays the bills; keeps a roof over your head? You're mom? No! I do, and it's time you show me some respect. I'm your father; this is my house! As long as you live under my roof, you follow my rules! Got it?" he yelled back, and I got a pretty good whiff of the scotch he had been drinking before he got home. I nodded, and he let go of my wrist slowly. I blinked back tears I hadn't even noticed were there, and walked to the kitchen.

Summer backed up, letting me enter through the doorway. She hugged me, crying. He was right; our mother had left us years ago. After she had married that lowlife, that is. So we had been stuck with him, and there was nothing we could do about it. I pulled her away, and wiped her tears away from her cheeks with the pad of my thumb.

"Hey, it's gonna be ok," I said, and she nodded weakly. I smiled at her, which caused her to return one without hesitation. I stood up, slowly going back into the living room. My dad had sat down on the loveseat, propping his feet up on coffee table. I looked at him, but he paid no mind to me. I turned quickly on my heel, going back to the kitchen and signaling for Summer to follow my trail. We ran up the staircase, to my bedroom. I quickly texted Paige, telling her I actually needed to stay with her. She replied, getting excited that I changed my plans. She sent another message right after, telling me she'd be by in a few minutes to pick me up. I turned off my phone, walking to Summer who was sitting on the edge of my bed.

"Pack your things, what ever you want to take. We're leaving," I said, and she stared at me like I was crazy. We had discussed this topic many times, but now she knew I was being completely serious. I had finally had enough. Enough of the abuse, mentally and physically. I had had enough of watching and listening to my little sister crying in her room in the middle of the night. It was time I stood up, for the both of us. I was done with the bullshit.

She stood from my bed, running down the hall and getting a bag. While she packed, so did I. I grabbed two duffel bags, packing the first one with any clothes I may need. I packed shorts, sweatpants, shirts, underwear, sweatshirts, T's, a few pairs of shoes. Everything I could think to get in the limited time. The other bag was for my laptop, and chargers for both my computer and phone. I got a photo album from my desk that had old pictures of my mom, Summer, and me. I never wanted to lose them, even if my mom had left.

I slung the bags over my shoulders, going to Summer's room to find that she was ready to go. My phone buzzed, and I checked it to see that Paige was waiting for me outside. I signaled for Summer to follow me, and we walked down the stairs slowly and quietly.

"Dad?" I called, but he didn't answer. I sighed; he must have fallen asleep. I went to the front door, unlocking it and swinging it open. Paige was standing by the car, smiling at us.

"Come on, lets get outta here," I said, taking my sisters hand, and together we walked out of the house and to the car.

**Ok, I hope you liked it! I really liked this chapter, I like knowing the characters before the world went to shit so I wanted to add this, I think it's important to really know the character. Please R&R if that's your thing! Until next time guys!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Meant to Live**

_"What's going on?" I said, rubbing my eyes and staring out the window of the car. People were crowded up in front of stores. You could hear glass breaking, yelling, screaming, and crying. I looked to the front to see Paige staring back at me; equally as curious and equally as scared._

_"It's the virus," her dad said, and I hadn't realized he was even there until he spoke. The virus. People were calling it rabies, but really, it was so much more than that. All we knew- hell, all anyone really knew- was that it spread through contact. If you were bitten, scratched, anything of the sort, you were automatically 'infected'._

_Really, I was scared. I was completely consumed with nerves. But all I wanted was to keep Summer safe. And away from those maniacs that were now swarming into the doors of the thrift store. Something about the unknown made people scared, made them lesser of themselves. Something someone didn't understand, well, it made them a different person. It made them something they never dreamed of being. I wasn't scared of the virus; I wasn't scared of the infected. I was scared of the people_.

I _stared back out the window, watching the buildings blur together in one continuous strip of grey. Summer scooted over closer to me and burrowed her head in my arm. Her voice muffled into my shirt and I laughed. "What?" I asked and she lifted her head up, golden hair ruffled and sticking out every which way._

_"I said: you make a good pillow."_

_I giggled again, holding my arm up to let her curl into my side. I wrapped my arm over her shoulder, kissing the top of her head. "Love you," I said, and in reply she squeezed my arm softly. After a while, I could hear her faint snoring, and I laid my head back to stair up at the top of the car, covered in soft cloth._

_"Where are we going anyway?" I said and Paige turned back to look at me again. I could feel her eyes on me, and I tilted my head down slightly to stare back at her. She smiled, eyes gleaming at Summer before she replied._

_"We're-"_

_"We're going into the city," her father stated, cutting her off before she could even get a word in._

"_What? Why?" I asked, sitting up a bit, careful not to disturb Summer. We lived on the outskirts, farthest away from the core of Atlanta. So why would we be going into the city, there'd be more people. A bigger chance of getting infected, or mugged, or anything now that I pondered._

_"News said it was the best place to be. The government cleared it off; it's a safe zone. We'll be better off there than here," he said and I huffed, blowing the strands of loose hair from my eyes. I didn't entirely believe that. I'd rather stay out of the heart of the city, but I found myself being tugged along for the joyride._

_I sighed, drawing it out a lot longer than necessary. But when Paige turned her head to me again, we broke out into a good, needed laugh, making me choke partially on the air I had sucked in. She laughed harder at that, and it spread to me. It was the kind of laugh you only ever shared with close friends, the kind that made you gasp for air and cry out because your stomach ached._

_We stayed like that until her dad silenced us with a harsh 'Shh!' I looked at him, and I could have sworn I was burning holes into the back of his head. Paige frowned at me, and turned back to watch the rode slowly. I rolled my eyes; I really didn't like her dad. He could be a complete prick sometimes._

_I laid my head back again and stared at the top of the car roof, closing my eyes after scanning over the texture. "Fucking apocalypse," I said, closing my mouth and relaxing in my seat_.

* * *

"Stay with me, come on, wake up."

I could feel myself being shaken relentlessly, but I could do nothing but get comfortable in the dark. I wanted to wake up, I did. Something about the desperateness in her voice made me feel terrible about everything I had done, everything I had ever messed up in my life. I had ruined many things, from my friendships to my own family, but this was different. This was something I wanted to come back from. Her voice was laced with pity, drenched in sadness.

But I could do nothing but wait for whatever was to come next. I had always wondered what the unknown held. No, I wasn't religious… but right now I wished I were. Would I get to go to someplace beautiful, and see my family again? My friends, what about Paige? Or my old pets we buried in the back yard, or the countless people I passed in the halls of my school? Would I get to be somewhere I was happy?

Would my best friend be there, did she deserve to be? Was my mom there, did she deserve to be? Summer had to be there, she was too innocent to be locked out, and she deserved to be somewhere beautiful. She was too young, too fragile. She had been through too much, way too early. But… did I deserve to be there? Did I really?

No.

No, I didn't deserve to be there with them. No, I deserved to be alone, here, surrounded in darkness. That's where I deserved to be. I didn't deserve to be saved by these people; I didn't deserve this woman's sorrow. I didn't deserve to start over, a clean slate. I decided, that I deserved what was coming. I deserved to be here, there was no one to blame but myself. I had been spiraling to this for a long time, and I finally made it. And now I hoped they didn't help me, I hoped they let me go on my own.

I shouldn't have gotten up and wandered to them. I should have stayed there, by that tree. I should have enjoyed the rain and the thunder. I should have enjoyed my last moments…

**Oh! Well, that's depressing. I'm sorry if this was sad! But, but character development is crucial. I'm sorry if this chapter sucked, but I've had a massive writers block all day long and it has been terrible. So I needed to try and write through it, and looks like I did! Please R&R If that's how you roll. If not, that's cool too. Until next time guys**.


	4. Chapter 4

**Meant to Live**

I could feel everything; I could hear everything. But I could see nothing. I could hear the people talking, clearer now than when I had fallen in front of the fences. They were being pretty loud, well, I thought so anyways. It made my head pound, and a sharp pain went through to the back of my head. It was right in the center.

One of them was whispering; another was raising his voice. I heard someone shush them, and the voices reduced to almost nothing. And I couldn't hear them talking anymore. I wondered what they were saying, was it about me? Oh no, please don't let it be some sort of gang. _See, Brooke? You're a bad luck charm, nice going. Walking right into some gang that'll probably throw you over the fence._

I lay there for a moment, trying to move anything. It was like I was in my body, but my body wasn't cooperating. _Oh come on! It's the end of the world, and I can't even move?_ I hoped I wasn't stuck like this, I really hoped I wasn't. And when I tried to open my eyes for the second time, I could feel it. It felt like a bit of life was returning; I felt my body working with me. I opened one eye, slowly, and only just a bit. Everything was blurry, and my vision was swaying. I shook my head, ignoring the fact that it ached more with each movement. I surveyed the room, dark and tiny. A cell? So these people lived in cells, weird.

I opened the other just a bit, flicking my eyes to the doorway, but there was no sign of people. Maybe they were deciding whether or not to feed me to the corpses later._ Oh shut up, will you?_ _These people obviously wanted you alive, and they haven't done anything to you! They're taking care of you; stop being a judgmental bitch. You haven't even met them._

I sighed, looking down the bed. At least I was tucked in, that was nice of them. I passed my fingertip over the sheet, rubbing it back and forth. It was soft. It kind of reminded me of my old room; god I missed my house. Strange, how you miss something even though all it brings back are bad memories. The ones you try so hard to lock away, but you never really can. Not entirely.

I breathed in, laying my head back against the pillow. As soon as it made contact with the cushion, the sharp pain came back. My head throbbed for a moment. Not until I had laid back did I realize the intense pain in my arm. I hadn't even noticed it was bandaged up until now. I lifted it slightly, ghosting my finger over the gauze that had been carefully placed around my wrist.

I picked at the edge of it; did I really want to do this? _Don't look at it!_ But I found my body betraying my mind for the millionth time it seemed, and I started to lift it from where it had been tucked under in folds. Why I wanted to see it I didn't know, but I felt like a failure. It couldn't have been major, or I would be dead. I wanted to see it as clear as day, I wanted to look at what I had done to myself. To feel remorse for what I had done, but as I started to unravel the cloth, I found that I held none. I wasn't sorry for what I had done to myself, but I wasn't exactly angry that it had gone by without affecting me. I was, in a way, content.

"Don't pick at it," someone said, and I nearly jumped right out of my skin. He was standing in the doorway, watching me before entering the cell. He had kind eyes, and a bushy white beard. He wore suspenders, and he carried a black bag that was tucked under his arm. I laughed to myself, thinking of how Summer would be calling him grandpa, and he smiled, pulling over a chair and setting it next to my bedside.

I noticed he walked with a limp, but it didn't seem to affect him as much as one would think. He breathed out, setting down. He held out his hand, and my eyes traced the wrinkles in his palm. I looked at him, scrunching up my nose.

"Let me see your arm," he said and I was about to respond, but I didn't have the words. So instead, I looked like an idiot, stiff as a board with my mouth forming a slight O shape. I closed it, and lifted my arm. He took it carefully, unwrapping the white cloth. I looked away when he pulled off the bandage that had been separating my wound from the air. I could hear him breathing; I was stuck in the worst silence.

"You gave Maggie quite a scare," he said, and I raised an eyebrow. He must have been talking about the girl that reached me first. He looked up, smiling faintly before returning back to his work. "My daughter," he finished and I nodded. He had a daughter. If I was going to stay here I might as well get to know the people that saved me.

He turned to the side, getting out fresh gauze and bottles of medicines. "We almost lost you," he said, filling the silence before it could settle back in. I stared at him, and then to the bottles he took out of his bag, searching for the right one I assumed. They all had weird names, except for one that stood out. Rubbing alcohol. I swallowed and stared at the bottle, hoping that if I looked hard enough it would evaporate. But, of course, with my luck it did no such thing. I shifted uncomfortably, staring back at him.

"Um, you're not gonna use that, right?" I asked, nervously laughing to brush off my embarrassment. He looked at me, taking a cloth and unscrewing the cap.

"What's you're name?" he asked, completely switching gears to try and distract me. But no, that wasn't going to work with me.

"My name is Brooke, and there's no need to use that," I said, voice firm and serious. And I was serious, rubbing alcohol burned like hell.

"Well, Brooke. I have to keep the wound clean," he said and I stared at him, if only looks could kill. I'd be home free if that were the case. He held my arm more firmly, not letting me move it. My other hand grabbed the blanket when the cloth touched my skin. I bit down on my lip, tearing through the first layer of skin on the inside. I could taste the small amount of blood, and I winced.

"So, what's your name? Or should I call you doctor evil?" I said through the pain, faking a smile at him, when in reality I wanted to strangle him for putting that shit in my wound. It was like someone had opened the gates of hell, unleashing it onto my arm.

He took a clean cloth, wiping away the excess liquid. "I'm Hershel, nice to officially meet you Brooke," he said, laying a bandage down and wrapping it tightly in, sure it wouldn't move. He unraveled the gauze and twisted it around my arm, tucking the end of it under the rest of the soft white material. "I hope I don't have to patch you up anymore," he added, packing up all of his other medical supplies.

I paused, about to reach out to tap his shoulder when he turned around. I poked his shoulder with my bony finger, all the while thinking about his comment. Well, maybe he didn't know what had really happened? But he was obviously a doctor of some sort so I was sure he knew, or assumed anyways. He turned back around to face me and I tapped my fingers on the bed sheet.

"Um, do you have any medicine? For a headache?" I stammered, changing what I was going to originally ask at the last second. He sighed, unzipping his bag to retrieve a bottle. He handed me the pill, and got up from his chair.

"I'll get you some water," he said, before taking his bag with him, wobbling out of the cell. I turned it around in my palm, until I heard his steps come back to the doorway. He walked in, handing me the half filled cup, and I swallowed it, gulping all of the liquid down. Manners.

He took the cup back when it was emptied and he turned to walk away. I reached my arm up, as if to grab him by the collar of his shirt. But he was already almost to the bars of the door, and I now had had the time to question my words.

"Hershel?" I asked, like a small child asking their parents for a toy they saw at Wal-Mart. He turned back to me, grey eyes shining a smile he didn't seem to wear.

"Does anyone know what I did?" I asked, picking at my nails and looking down at my hands. Wow, talk about not only embarrassing but kind of degrading.

"Know about what? I have no idea what you're talking about," he said, and I looked up to see him smiling at me. He reminded me of my grandfather, who had passed some years before the virus had started. I missed him, and I had always told him I'd see him over school break. But he had passed away the night I talked to him; I always blamed myself for not saving him. Even though I knew there was nothing I could have done to reverse it.

"Thanks," I said, and he nodded, turning back to the door and walking out. I wished he hadn't left; he would have been someone to talk to. But he had made his way out of the cell and down the hall, leaving me to my thoughts. And they were not comforting.

**A/N~ Yay! Chapter four! I liked this chapter, and the grandfather thing, yeah**, **that actually happened to me. Idk why, I thought id add it. Oh, and guys, feel free to talk to me if you want to, I love talking to people on here. Anyways, I hope you liked this chapter and didn't absolutely hate it. I've been writing it for over two hours, mostly thinking. As you probably noticed, this is going back and forth from past to** **present. Sorry about that, and Im sorry if you don't like that about this story. But it's how I write. Anyways, if there are errors please excuse them, I have to write these on my phone now because my laptop is being stupid. Please R&R if you wanna, and I'll be posting again soon.**

**P.S.- I have the EOCS this week and next week, so if I don't post much, that's why. Wish me luck**!


	5. Chapter 5

**Meant to Live**

_**Before the apocalypse…**_

I slammed the door, locking it and sliding to the ground. Summer was at her friend's house tonight, thank god. I didn't want her to be here, not right now. I could handle it on my own; she had had enough hell this week as it was. My dad banged on the door, making it shake from behind me. I jumped slightly, covering my ears in the process.

"Go away!" I yelled through the door, and I pushed against it with all of my weight, thinking he was about to try and come in the bathroom. If he found the key I'd be on my own, so I prayed he didn't know where I hid it.

He shook the knob fiercely; yelling at me through the wood. I took my hands away from my head, listening to his voice, slurred and all over the place.

"Open this goddamn door right now!" he demanded, and I bawled my fists up in my lap.

"Fuck you," I murmured, and the shaking and pounding on the bathroom door ceased. I turned to look at it, making sure it wasn't wide open. I sighed, still locked.

"What the fuck did you just say?" he hissed, and I could hear it in his voice. He sounded like he wanted to murder me. He had talked to me like this before, anger smothering his usually ragged voice. I could tell he was close to the door, so close that it sounded like he was speaking directly into my ear. I shuddered, laying my head back against the wood. I stared up at the ceiling, tracing the choppy white paint with my eyes.

I wanted to shut him out completely, but I never would have that option. I wished my soul would just escape my body, and I could go off someplace far away from here. But I knew I could never; that wasn't a choice. I would never get rid of him, not completely. Not even after I left home, which I dreaded. I did not, under any circumstances; want to leave Summer alone so I could run off to college, if I was even going. But right now - right now I wanted to vanish into thin air. I just wanted to disappear from this house. _Maybe I should kill myself; he can't hurt me then…_

I shook my head back and forth, closing my eyes against the light that flickered in the room. "What am I thinking? I can't leave her," I said to myself, hardly hearing my own words pass my lips. It was silent, so quiet I could hear my heart racing, threatening to beat out of my ribcage.

And then a fist against the other side of the door brought me back to the reality of my situation. I scooted away from the barrier, turning my body around to face it. I sat there, listening to all of the foul things he had to say about me. I knew they weren't true, but every time it was said they stayed in my mind. And it would be all I would think about for days on end.

"What did you say brat? Come on; tell me. No, you're too scared to do anything. You just lock yourself in the bathroom and take it like a bitch. You're fucking worthless, I can see why your mom left! Damn, I should leave too! But then what would you do? Try and support that mistake of a sister? Do you know that your mom didn't even want her? She didn't even want you! She told me before she left that you were both mistakes; she never wanted you!"

I listened, letting the tears run down my face. I didn't even bother to wipe them away, why should I? It was true; I was worthless. I was, and I knew my mom didn't want me. But when he started talking about Summer, I couldn't listen to it.

"SHUT UP!" I yelled, voice cracking at how loud I had just been. I smacked my hand against the door, hitting it repeatedly. "SHUT UP! You don't know anything! Summer wasn't a mistake!" I said, and I could hear him stepping side to side, the hardwood creaking under his weight. My hand stayed there, sliding down the door to rest on the floor. I cried, really cried. The type that hurt physically, causing you to double over without any sort of control. Because I could only take so much, and before I knew it I'd cracked, let it slip. I let him win, and hoped he was satisfied at what he'd just told me. And so I sobbed, being as loud as I possibly could. "Mom left because you were here, she hated you," I said, reaching up to look at the door.

_You can't hurt me anymore. You win; game over._ I brought my hand up to the knob, reaching my fingers up to touch it. I twisted the lock slowly, hearing it click and then letting it go. I sniffed, wiping my nose and eyes on my shirtsleeve. The door swung open after a moment, and I looked up at him. "You win," I said, staring back at the tiled floor. Before I knew it he had a clump of my hair in his hands, dragging me out of the room.

I clawed at his hands, trying to pry them away from my head that had already begun to throb. I cried out when he let me go, pushing me on the ground. I landed with a thud, bringing my arms out in front of me to stop my face from hitting the hardwood. I caught myself, and turned back to him for only a second before he had hit me clear in the face.

I hadn't reached up to touch the burning area, I didn't move. I didn't flinch like usual; I sat there on the floor and let everything unfold like it was meant to. He crouched down in front of me, and I flicked my eyes to him, a tear dropping to splash on the floor. He tilted his head to the side, as if that would help him read me. But I didn't care about what he had to say, or planned to do. I had brought it on myself, I always did.

He grabbed my hair again, right at the roots and tugged, and I clamped my eyes shut, feeling the hair struggling to stay attacked. It felt like it was being ripped off my scalp. Everything up to that point faded, and everything after became a haze. It must have been at least ten minutes or more that he let his anger out. And by that point I could barely move my arm, and my whole body stung, a thousand needles digging into my skin.

I looked up at him, now, as he stood over me. What a repugnant thing he was. Someone who thought it was perfectly fine to beat a child, someone like me, who was defenseless to begin with. All he ever did was tear me down to nothing. He knelt down to my level once more, and I could smell the amount of alcohol he had had tonight. I turned my head slightly, not wanting to look into his eyes.

He grabbed my face, squeezing the sides of my cheeks in, holding my chin tight. The insides of my cheeks pressed hard into my teeth, and he shook me harshly from where he held my head. I looked at him, staring into his eyes for the first time since we had started fighting. But I didn't see anything that registered with me. There was nothing of the man my mom had brought home for the first date. There was nothing about him that was comforting, nothing that read father, or husband, and in a way he didn't come across as human. He really didn't, because I couldn't fathom how a human could possibly be so cruel.

"You listen to me, your mother left because she had problems. She hated being here; it wasn't me that made her go. You- you and your sister- you are the ones that pushed her to packing her bags. You caused her to leave, it's your own damn fault. You ruined this family, not _me_."

**Woah, ok ok. Sooo, I know you guys are probably confused. No, this story isn't taking off where season four is, that would be impossible. I wanted this to take place at the end of season three, sometime between the end of season three and the beginning of season four. Hershel is alive at that time, and its all very curtail to Brook's character. She needs people to rely on; no one can be on their own. And yes, this chapter is written from experience. Been there, done that. Don't ever want to go back. Andddddd on that lovely note, tell me what you thought. I'm sorry if last chapter sucked, but I had written it a day before and thought I might as well publish it. R&R if you'd like, and ill be back in a few days to publish- maybe.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Meant to Live**

I opened my eyes, slowly returning to focus as I looked around the cell. I could hear the heavy rainfall as it collided with the walls and roof of the prison, and I could hear the distant chatter from far away. I rubbed my eyes, figuring the medicine Hershel had given me was what caused me to sleep; I never slept. Someone cleared their throat, and I hadn't even notice him until he shifted in his seat, and I just about screamed. I caught myself, and closed my mouth, staring at his outline. He was sitting in the corner, bathed in shadows.

"Hello?" I asked, and he put his feet firmly on the floor, making the softest echo. That only made the situation even weirder.

"What's your name?" he asked, southern accent showing firmly. I sat up from the pillow, propping myself up with my elbows.

"Brooke, what's yours?" I questioned back, raising an eye brow.

"Rick," he said quickly, breathing in and letting the air out after a pause. "Where'd you come from?"

By now he had looked back up at me, and I chewed on the inside of my bottom lip, thinking of what exactly to tell him. _Don't trust him. _I sat up, pushing off of the mattress to sit comfortably now. "I lost my group in the city. I wandered over here; I heard the gunshots. So I followed them, are you going to send me back out there?" I asked, cutting to the point. I knew we were both thinking it, might as well get to it. If he was going to push me back out into the woods I wanted to know now rather than later. And I wanted my knife back if they were keeping it.

"No, but I have to give you a test before you can enter the group," he said, silencing me.

"What kind of test?" I asked; sounding a bit worried. I tried to mask it, but it only made it sound worse. He sighed, sitting forward in his chair, staring at me. Blue eyes, messy hair that looked at if it hadn't been washed in ages, and it probably hand't been. The sunlight from the windows hit his face, and all I could do was stare. He looked intimidating, someone you did not want to cross paths with in the wrong situation. _So you're the leader. _I don't know why, but everything about him said he was the person in charge. Even if he wasn't called the leader, he was the one to make decisions.

"Don't worry, it's only three questions."

I raised my eyebrow at this; three questions? _That's your big test? Questions? I could be a crazy murderer for all you know. And you're just going to let me waltz my way in here? _"Ok, ask away," I said, smoothing out the sheet around me. I folded my hands, waiting for whatever he had to ask me.

"How many walkers have you killed?" he asked, staring directly into my eyes. _What's a walker…? _I cocked my head to the side, tatted hair falling over my shoulder. I pointed to the hallway, looking back at him to see if he was catching my drift.

"The corpses?" I asked and he only nodded while I smiled to myself. _Walkers, huh. That's simple. _

"I'm afraid I've lost count," I said, and he nodded slowly, looking down to the floor momentarily.

"How many people have you killed?" he questioned, and I sighed, picking at my nails. I could feel his eyes back on me, and I became uncomfortable under his gaze.

"Just one," I replied, mumbling my answer. Just one. Because I had to, I had to do it. It wasn't my choice; it was beyond my control. For the first time I could do nothing but watch the virus spread throughout her body. So I ended it before it started. _Y__ou had to, Brooke... You know what happens if you don't. _

"Why?" he asked, voice stern. Well, why does anyone kill someone in a world like todays? Because they're a threat, or because they simple have to. _What kind of question is that? it's obvious why I did it, I did what everyone else would do in that situation_. I leaned forward, hunching over so my arms pressed into my thighs. I showed no emotion, because I knew it was what was right. I was not going to let her turn, and I was not going to let myself watch her die slowly. I wasn't going to put her through anything else, ever. I was going to let her go somewhere beautiful, where she deserved to be.

"Because it had to be done," I said, eyes burning but solid. He stared at me with as much tension as I did him, and he nodded once, getting up. He stood from his chair, walking toward the cell door. He had left without another word, and then someone I actually knew came into the room.

"Hershel! When can I get up, I don't want to stay in bed forever," I said, looking at him. Hopefully, he'd let me get up. I wanted to meet these people.

"You can try to walk around now, but if you get light headed tell me and we'll put you back to bed," he said, breathing heavily and limping over to my bed. I ripped off the covers, glad to be rid of them. I swung my legs over the bed much too quickly for Hershel, and he held his arms out in front of me when I stood up.

"Careful," he said, and I nodded. But I didn't care; I wanted to walk around. We moved at a slow pace, and soon we were near the cell door, and I saw one face I recognized. _Maggie, I think. _She was standing next to the door, with another girl a little older than me, both smiling at me. _Why?_ I had no idea why, but they smiled anyways as I gripped the bars. Hershel looked at me, trying to see my face. I shook my head quickly, and nodded to keep walking.

"I'm fine, I want to keep going," I said and Hershel sighed, silently agreeing with me. I moved, letting go of the bars slowly to stumble ahead. Hershel took my hands, stepping me forward slowly until we stepped out of the cell where I had been for over a day. The two girls backed up, turning as I walked passed to stand on either side of me.

"I'm Beth, nice to meet you. I think you already know who Maggie is," the blonde girl said, with a soft country accent that fit her well. I smiled at her, walking slower than I actually wanted to. She returned it, and then I turned my head to Maggie. For the first time I saw her clearly, and she smiled halfway at me. She had short brown hair, which came down to about shoulder length. Maggie wore a dark green shirt, with black pants that seemed to be wearing down. A belt wrapped around her waist, where a gun was resting. I looked back at Beth, now walking a little bit slower than me. I think she wanted to fall back in case I fell backwards, but I didn't think I would anytime soon.

"I'm glad you're okay, you scared me half to death," Maggie said, which brought my attention back to her. She too had an accent, but I found everyone's fit them perfectly to their features. I smiled, looking ahead of me.

"Thanks for helping me," I said, and she laughed softly, nodding her head and looking ahead as well. We were in a hallway, which was quite long. It must have been a lot shorter but to me it felt like a marathon. I stopped abruptly, holding my head. I felt like I was going to faint, but I wasn't going to tell them that. They all stopped, crowding me and bombarding me with question. I only nodded my head, answering them without speaking. And we continued to walk, now, toward two double doors. Beth turned from behind me, walking ahead and pushing the doors open.

I could already see it… so many people were in there, which I could see from being this far away. I felt my eyes grow big, and I trudged forward, ignoring my aching body. All I felt like doing was returning to sleep, but I wanted to meet these people. From the ones I had met so far, they seemed pretty decent. _So they're not a gang, cross that out. _We made it to the doors, which both Maggie and Beth were holding open. Hershel walked in front of me, looking back to make sure I was fine with staying on both feet. The chatter that had been swarming through out the halls and room had stopped, and everyone had turned to look at me. Some were smiling, some looked very puzzled. Others waved me off, but I could tell.

This place felt like a family.

"Brooke, meet the group," Hershel said, turning to me, and back again to the people flooded into the large room. So I put on a happy face, scanning the crowd to look at everyone who wore the same mask I did.

**Really quickly… first and foremost I am sorry if this story is terrible… and second, I needed to write this. I probably wont update much over the break, since it's my time off from school. But I'll try and squeeze in a few chapters until then. Anyways, R&R if you wanna, and I'll be back soon with another chapter. **


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